


Control

by jenfurlee (orphan_account)



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-28 18:14:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7651375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/jenfurlee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every once and awhile there is a hardness that sets in Franky's bones, but how will Bridget react when she discovers the only way to soften the edge is giving over her control? (Inspired by the song Control by Halsey)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Every so often Bridget noticed the tenseness settle in Franky’s body. Her shoulders were as sharp as razor blades while she slept with her back facing the middle of the bed. She had always slept topless, so it was easy to see the tension left in her muscular back even as she slept. Bridget tried to gently rub her back on the mornings she woke before her. Normally the touch was always welcomed by Franky, and she’d awake with that broad smile stretched across her face. She’d let her body melt back into Bridget all without even opening up those bright eyes.  
This morning Bridget attempted to ease the tension away with her fingertips, hoping the touch would soften Franky’s edge. As Bridget’s hands grazed over the tight shoulder blade, the younger woman jerked awake before catching Bridget’s wrist from over her shoulders. Bridget gasped at the tight grip and she recoiled from the touch as if the stove had just burned her.   
“Not today.” Franky muttered without even casting a glance towards her girlfriend. She rose from the bed in her underwear before grabbing her workout gear and changing in the bathroom. When she came out, she had covered her breasts with a bright blue sports bra, her toned stomach bare. Low on her hips sat a tight pair of black workout shorts that hugged Franky’s toned arse amazingly. Her headphones covered her ears blaring music loudly as she headed down to Bridget’s small home gym.  
She’d heard the young woman laying into the punching bag in the gym for what seemed like hours. She knew working out was one thing that had managed to keep Franky sane inside Wentworth, so she had installed a few pieces of equipment she knew that Franky would use in addition to the treadmill, although when it was nice enough, Franky preferred to run outside.   
Bridget had taken her morning coffee onto the balcony to get a nice view of the beach and avoid the repetitive sound of Franky’s gloves hitting the bag. As she settled in with the paper, she noticed that Franky’s ashtray was abnormally full of cigarette butts. The brunette had cut down significantly from her days in prison, but she still usually enjoyed a cigarette in the morning and evening. Franky’s discarded pack of menthols was across the table completely empty. Normally Franky did tidy up after herself, tossing the butts every day or so and cleaning the mess. She knew the smell gave Bridget an instant headache. The blonde silently wondered how many cigarettes Franky had chain-smoked outside last night while she slept soundly in the bedroom. Next to the discarded package, Bridget found Franky’s worn, red journal. Franky was mandated by her parole to meet with a therapist every two weeks to check in on her progress with her schooling as well as her temper. It had seemed to be helping, until Franky reached certain points where she shut down completely, the hardness set into her like stone. Even with all of her years of experience, Bridget never knew what to do for her lover in those moments when the young woman’s body turned hard. She tried ignoring it, if anything it made Franky’s edge even more noticeable and prolonged. She tried to soften it with kindness and cuddles, but Franky had rejected that very early in the day. She was at a complete loss of what to do for the woman she loved so much.   
Although it went against every instinct inside of her, Bridget pulled the journal closer and flipped it open in front of her. She was shocked at the words splayed in messy script across the pages. 

There’s a demon inside me that craves that sweet comfort of pain; the pain that washes over like a warm blanket drowning out all of the voices in my head. 

You’re worthless. You’re nothing. Who could ever love you? 

I fight them with everything I have. My legs try to out run them, but they are quicker. My fists try to hurt them, but they are stronger. I blare the music to drown them, but they are never silenced. The voice keeps repeating it over and over. 

You’re worthless. You’re nothing. Who could ever love you? 

I live with them, but I am not alive.

They’ve been spinning on their record; needle pinned down forever in my mind since I can remember. The cravings lie there too, right below the surface.

I want to leave her bruised and bitten. I want to watch her writhe under the sting of my palms slapping against her soft flesh. I want to mark her breasts like a road map that she feels each time she takes in air. I want her to submit to me, the real me, the monster inside of me. 

 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Franky stood in the doorway, her body drenched in sweat, and her breath still coming in short rasps. Bridget froze, not daring speak or move from her spot. Franky approached ripping the journal from her grasp, and her eyes reading over the intimate words her partner had just read. Words she had probably never anticipated that Bridget would read. Her eyes hardened instantly as her fists clenched around the journal. The tightness in her jaw had gotten worse. Bridget could see her struggle to formulate words and manage her breathing she had learned in anger management. The former inmate was too far-gone to calm herself with breathing techniques.   
“Franky, I- I’m so sorry. I breached your trust, and I-“ Before Bridget could finish her statement Franky had walked back towards the glass door slamming her closed fist through it as it shattered into pieces below her. She screamed and sobbed at the same time, her dark eyes clouding with tears. Blood began to trickle from her shredded knuckles, but before Bridget could recover from her shock, Franky was inside and up the stairs in no time.   
Bridget stepped delicately over the slivers of glass in her slippers and shot up the stairs behind the young woman. Blood droplets had fallen onto the wooden floors leading Bridget like a trail of breadcrumbs. The bathroom door was shut, and she could her the strangled sobs and labored breathing of her girlfriend.   
“Franky, please, we need to get you to a hospital.” The psychologist pleaded knocking on the door softly.   
“Just fucking go! I can take care of myself.” She managed to speak between troublesome breaths.   
“I’m coming in whether you like it or not.” Bridget then proceeded to open the door. Her blue eyes were horrified at the sight before her, but years of training had taught her to always withhold the immediate reaction. Franky had crawled into the deep tub clutching her bleeding hand to her chest. Blood covered her nearly bare body. Her sweat soaked hair clung to her forehead as tears cascaded down her face trailing her dark charcoal makeup that was leftover from the day before. She continued to slam her head back against the intricate tile pattern while she muttered under her breath so low Bridget could hardly make out what she was saying.  
“I’m worthless. I’m nothing. Who could ever love me?” She repeated over and over her eyes closed tightly.  
“Oh Franky,” She whispered grabbing the first aid kit from beneath the sink. She could feel Franky’s eyes slowly open, watching her every move with great care. She kneeled on the bathmat reaching tentatively for Franky’s hand. “Please?” Bridget begged. Franky slowly reached her hand across the tub; the psychologist noticed several cuts along Franky’s knuckles. Luckily no glass shards were stuck in the cuts. Bridget went to work silently. She first managed to clean the cuts, taking special care to blow on them to reduce the sting. She then medicated them before dressing them with great focus. Franky’s eyes had zoned out completely as her breathing became automatic. The pain didn’t register on her face anymore. Bridget had never seen her this way in all of their time together.   
“You’ll leave me.” Franky rasped out, her voice sore from her screams. “Now that you know what a monster I really am.” She closed her heavy eyes, turning her head away her cheek touching the cold tile.  
“You’re not a monster, Franky.” Bridget placed her hands on both of Franky’s knees. “I shouldn’t have read your journal. It was completely uncalled for. I just didn’t know how to reach you when you’re so on the edge like this. I thought it would help me understand,” She tried to explain. Franky shrugged, her eyes fluttering opening again, heavy lidded.   
“Understand what a freak I really am?” Franky looked completely defeated. Bridget had never seen her this way, even when she was facing down the lot in Wentworth. The words Bridget was searching for never came, she was at a loss. “I need a bath and then I want to go to sleep.” Franky’s words weren’t a request so much as a list of demands. She expected Bridget to leave her be, but was grateful when the older woman insisted on staying to help. She drew the bath adding in the eucalyptus salts that Franky loved so much. She helped Franky out of her sports bra and shorts. Her normally strong body, looked weak and thin as she sunk back into the warm water. Her legs pulled up to her chest as she rested her head on her knees. The ridges of her spine were apparent more than ever. Had she lost weight? She had been eating like a bird compared to her normal appetite. Bridget lathered a washcloth and began to wash Franky’s face delicately. The layer of dark eye make up that always seemed to cover Franky’s eyes was now gone leaving her completely without make up. Bridget rarely got to see her with out her “war paint” as Franky liked to call it. But on the rare occasion she did, she couldn’t believe how incredibly beautiful the young woman was. Her nose and cheeks were layered with small freckles. The couple didn’t exchange any words as the older woman proceeded to wash Franky’s hair with great care so as not to get any shampoo or conditioner into her eyes. When she was finished, she carefully wrapped a towel around the former inmate’s body and towel dried her hair gently before leading her into their bedroom. Franky sat on the edge of the bed her eyes never once lifting up from the floor. Bridget then helped her slip on a pair of boxer briefs and warm sweat pants. She had finished tying them carefully as she stood between Franky’s legs. She felt a hand touch her side gently before her piercing green eyes glanced up and made eye contact with Bridget’s pale blue eyes. The brunette’s hand then reached up cupping the older woman’s cheek as she started into her eyes.   
“I don’t deserve you, Bridget” It was one of the only times she could remember Franky using her real name and not the pet name she had grown so found of since their days in Wentworth together. She then gently took Franky’s hand in hers placing a soft kiss in the middle of Franky’s palm before wrapping her fingers into a fist.  
“Rest, love. We can talk later.” Franky nodded slowly before pulling her body to lay with her knees pulled up close to her chest. Bridget leaned down delivering a kiss to Franky’s temple as she pulled the warm comforter over her young love.


	2. Show Me

She had thought their relationship had been so perfect since Franky’s release from Wentworth. They had made love almost nightly for weeks upon her release. It had been incredible. It was potentially the best sex Bridget had ever had. She’d had several girlfriends over the years, some more serious than others, but she could never remember a single one of them that even lit a candle to Franky. It was as if Franky knew Bridget’s body better than she did herself. Even still after months of dating, their sex life was fantastic. Franky always seemed so satisfied after their lovemaking; this revelation of Franky’s… proclivity was a complete shock for Bridget. That is until she remembered the conversation she had with her best friend, Violet. 

 

Bridget had just seen Franky out the door to her afternoon lecture when she returned to the living room see Violet sipping a cuppa silently.  
“Well? Thoughts?” Although Bridget knew her feelings for Franky were strong, she still would appreciate the approval of her best friend.  
“She’s different than I expected,” was all Violet managed to offer up. Normally she was direct and to the point when it came to her best friend’s newest love interest.  
“Well what did you expect then?” Sure, Franky was a little rough around the edges, but she was absolutely gorgeous and she treated Bridget well.  
“I’m not sure. Although it’s clear that she cares about you by the way she looks at you.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“She looks like she’s going to devour you at any second, Bridge. It’s very intense.”  
“She’s an intense woman, that’s for sure.” Bridget laughed lightly thinking of all the places Franky had managed to have sex with her already in the short week she’d been released.  
“Just please promise me you’ll be careful.” Violet pressed her eyes narrowing on her best friend’s.  
“Always.”

Perhaps the warning signs had been there, and Bridget had been too caught up to see them. She pressured herself to think back to all of the spontaneous lovemaking they still managed to have. There was only one instant that Bridget had turned Franky down, and it hadn’t gone well.

The pair were tucked into a quiet booth enjoying a quiet dinner and bottle of wine at Bridget’s favorite Italian restaurant. Bridget had spent the conversation talking about her long and stressful day at work until Franky’s hand slid up her thigh underneath her dress. Within seconds Franky’s hands were sliding Bridget’s lacy underwear to the side to give the young woman better access. Bridget grabbed Franky’s wrist tightly before pushing it away.  
“We’re in public, Franky Doyle.” Bridget chastised barely above a whisper. She looked around making sure no one had seen the exchange. Seconds later, Franky’s hand was back and brushing over Bridget’s clit.  
“And I fucking want you,” Franky snarled, her breath coming in hot pants against Bridget’s ear. Franky had then slid her long fingers into Bridget.  
“I said stop!” She breathed shoving Franky hard on the shoulder as tears welled in her eyes. The brunette had completely removed her touch, her eyes narrowed. They held darkness unlike anything Bridget had ever seen. For the first time, Bridget was afraid of the dark eyed woman that stared at her ready to pounce.  
“I’m so sorry. I-I dunno what came over me. Please forgive me. It will never happen again,” Franky uttered, shaking her head back and forth covering her mouth. They never spoke of the moment again.

Psychologist Bridget knew that what had happened at the restaurant was Bridget shutting down a part of Franky that longed so desperately to be known. The demon inside Franky longed to control her partner in every facet when it came to sex. She attempted to take it, and was instantly admonished for it. She closed off those feelings in an attempt to make Bridget happy. Franky gave her heart and soul into their relationship. She went out of her way to make it known that she cared for her. Franky woke up early on weekdays to make coffee and breakfast, even when she didn’t have anywhere to be. She snuck little notes of encouragement into Bridget’s blazers frequently. She had also managed to bring home fresh cut flowers for no reason aside from the fact that they reminded them of her because she knew lilies were her favorite.  
Normal Bridget was terrified of what Franky had buried in that mind of hers. The words from the journal flashed in her mind. She wanted her to submit to her, the real her. If this dominant person was the real Franky, who had she been falling in love with for the last six months? 

Franky didn’t awake until late into the evening when her hand began to throb in pain reminding her of her incredibly stupid mistake. Some part of her had hoped it had all been a dream, but the pain and bandage across her knuckles was the terrible reminder she needed. She rose tugging on a worn tank top and made her way downstairs to face her fate.  
The glass had already been replaced as if it had never happened. No evidence of this morning was left except for Franky’s hand. She didn’t find Bridget in the living room, so she wandered into the kitchen hoping to find her there. She sat on her laptop with a glass of wine beside her and her reading glasses perched on her nose. She was deep in thought and hadn’t noticed Franky in the doorway. Franky stood there for a moment letting the sight of her burn into her mind in case this was the last time. Bridget was absolutely gorgeous in every way. She’d never had partner so willingly call her out on her bullshit like her Gidget.  
Knowing she’d have to face the music eventually, Franky carefully took a couple steps forward into the kitchen. Bridget’s eyes flashed up from the computer screen.  
“Hey,” Franky managed to whisper. Bridget removed her glasses and closed the laptop.  
“Hey there. How are you?” Her voice asked sweetly.  
“I’ve been better,” Franky replied honestly picking at the tape on her knuckles her eyes cast downward.  
“I made some dinner if you’re hungry. Sit down, I’ll get it” Franky nodded her appreciation before sitting down on the barstool next to Bridget’s. Bridget removed a plate from the oven before setting it in front of Franky with a glass of water. Orange chicken and fried rice, Franky’s favorite. Instantly tears clouded her eyes as she fought back her emotions. “Eat first, then we’ll talk, okay?” Bridget stood in front of her across the small bar brushing her hand over Franky’s forearm. The young woman nodded again and ate silently. Bridget busied herself with some cleaning as Franky ate her meal, realizing how hungry she was after foregoing any meals that day after a rough workout. She began to clear her glass and plate, but Bridget turned around and took them from her.  
“Thank you for this. You have every right to kick me out after what I did today. You should. I don’t deserve you, Gidge.” Her voice quivered. After loading the last few things in the dishwasher. Bridget grabbed her wine glass.  
“Lets go talk in the living room, please?” Franky followed her sitting with her back against the arm of the couch her legs pulled up towards her chest again. Bridget couldn’t help but think that position was the one that probably comforted Franky on those terrible nights with her mother. “What happened today can never happen again, or I will end this relationship. The violence needs to stop. You could have been seriously injured. That being said, what I did today was completely out of line. I broke your trust by reading your private thoughts, and I am truly sorry Franky. I hope I can earn back your trust in time.”  
“I swear to you I will never lose control like that again. I’ll pay you for the door. I just-“ The brunette fumbled over her words. “I was going to invite you to my next session with Dr. Michaels. I was going to come clean about all of this. I’ve been a mess because I’m scared once you realize how fucked up I really am, you won’t want to be with me anymore.”  
“Why don’t you explain to me a little bit then? About what you were going to say?” Bridget sat at the other end of the couch facing right back at Franky. The young woman sniffled before nodding quickly.  
“I love you. I love being with you, and I love our life together. You’re perfect, Gidge, and I don’t deserve you.”  
“What makes you think you don’t deserve me?”  
“Because even despite how much I love you, there’s this part of me that is twisted.” Bridget’s brows creased in confusion.  
“What do you see?” Franky turned so her half sleeve tattoo was visible to the blond.  
“A woman?” Bridget questioned. She had assumed Franky’s tattoo was to do with her sexuality.  
“What kind of woman?”  
“A gay woman?”  
“She’s a dominatrix. Do you know what that means?” Bridget nodded curtly. “Explain it to me?”  
“It means she likes to hurt people.” Franky shook her head in disagreement.  
“It’s complicated. You may have heard these terms before, but without understanding the whole picture, it’s easy to get confused.”  
“Do you like to hurt people?” Bridget asked before Franky could continue. “Do you want to hurt me?”  
“I want to dominate you. Meaning I want to be in control of you. Not all the time. I love our relationship, and I have never been happier in my life, you know this. There’s just sometimes… I crave being in total control of you.” Bridget’s heart rate quickened.  
“So like tying me up and whipping me?”  
“Not necessarily. It can be as simple as following instructions. But it can also include other acts like restraints and other things. It all depends on the people involved. No one does anything that isn’t carefully discussed and planned.”  
“You wrote that you want to mark me, but you’ve done this before.” Bridget recalled several times just as she was about to reach her climax, Franky would bite down hard at the crook of her neck sending waves of pleasure rippling over her skin.  
“I mark you when I know the endorphins are already coursing through your body. I know that when I do it, your pleasure from your orgasm counteracts the pain you feel when I bite you. It sort of shocks your system, but you’re left feeling good. I know you enjoy it that way.” Bridget nodded emphatically. Franky smiled briefly before continuing. “I’m talking about marking you when you haven’t had that rush of endorphins, before I’ve even touched you sexually. I’m talking about the scene leading up to sex. It’s about pushing your limits and letting someone be completely in control of your body. Trusting them to be able to read you and what you need at that moment and letting them give it to you.” Franky’s voice was even and controlled for the first time that day. Bridget couldn’t control her intrigue.  
“I want you to show me.” Bridget said before her brain could really process what she had spoke. Franky shook her head back and forth her face wincing.  
“Absolutely not.”  
“If this is part of you, I will love it too. If this is what you desire and would make you happy, I want to at least try. I love you.” Bridget had managed to scoot closer towards Franky on the couch until she was sitting directly in front of the younger woman. “Please, Franky.” The blonde begged just above a whisper setting her hands on Franky’s knees.  
“You’re absolutely sure?” Franky’s eyes met Bridget’s as she placed her hands on top. Bridget nodded emphatically. “Your safeword is Francesca. If at any point in time, you feel uncomfortable or unsafe and need to stop, you say that word, and I will stop immediately. Understand?”  
“I understand.”  
“If you want me to slow down, your word is “yellow”, like a yellow stoplight. What are your words?”  
“Francesca and yellow,” Bridget managed to repeat her heartbeat quickening. Was she actually going to do this? Franky nodded still searching Bridget’s face for any sign of fear.  
“Do you trust me?”  
“Always,” She breathed above a whisper. She bent her head down to rest on Franky’s knees. The younger woman ran her good hand over her long blonde hair.  
“I want you to go to the bedroom, undress, and lie on your back. Is that clear?” Her voice was low and sultry. Bridget couldn’t help but noticing the feeling of arousal in the pit of her stomach.  
“Yes.” She nodded emphatically. Was she really about to do this?  
“Go on then,” Franky dismissed her. Bridget climbed the stairs slowly and reached the bedroom. She removed her blouse and jeans with great care to fold them and place them on the dresser. She then stripped herself of her navy blue lace bra and underwear. Her body shook as she climbed over the bed and positioned herself on her back. She expected Franky to be following right behind, but she was sadly mistaken. She lay there for what seemed like hours, the fear and excitement building in the pit of her stomach. The room was dark except for the light creeping in from the hallway. She was beginning to think Franky had gotten cold feet when her form appeared in the doorway. She had removed her tank top and sweats, so she was just standing in her tight briefs. Her hair was long and wild cascading over her shoulders. Bridget watched as her eyes took in the sight in front of her. Slowly she stepped into the room and tugged into her dresser drawer. Franky didn’t acknowledge her as she went to work on the head posts of their bed. She tied loops expertly around both posts before speaking to Bridget.  
“Hands here,” She helped Bridget slip her shaking hands through the loops. They were lose enough that Bridget could pull her hands out at any moment. As she stretched her arms above her, she could feel the clamoring heartbeat in her chest. “Are you comfortable?” Bridget nodded. “I asked you a question. Are you comfortable?” She waited for a verbal response.  
“Yes, Franky.”  
“Good. Now don’t move them,” Franky demanded, her eyes so dark. Her eyes took in the sight in front of her. Her lover’s bare body stretched across their bed. She ran her fingertips from Bridget’s wrist down the length of her side before stopping at her hips. She then repeated the same process on the other side. Bridget could feel her nipples harden at the intimate touch. Her eyes fluttered closed as she inhaled. Franky’s hands were on her ankles spreading them apart, so her lover was completely exposed. The bed dipped as Franky managed to kneel on the space between Bridget’s spread legs. Her fingertips were back brushing identical patterns over the length of her body delicately. She traced the supple skin of Bridget’s arms down her long sides and then over her hipbones and up her inner thighs. Over and over her fingers ran the pattern as goose bumps appeared over the older woman’s flesh. The pattern was hypnotizing as the blonde’s breathing sunk into a rhythm. Without warning, Bridget felt Franky’s fingernails replace the gentle touch scratching down the length of her sides. She gasped at the change, her skin burning from the contact as her eyes flashed open. Franky smiled devilishly at her response letting the sting set in. She then covered the agitated flesh with her palms taking care to run the length again, soothing the irritated skin. The gentle pattern of tracing was back lulling Bridget back to comfort. Somehow her skin was changed. She no longer wanted the delicate touch of Franky’s gentle hands. She craved the sharp feeling of the nails scraping down her ribs. Her hips arched begging to be touched. Franky laughed softly. “What’s wrong?” She asked low.  
“Do it again?” She asked tentatively biting her bottom lip.  
“Do what?” Franky smirked playing dumb. Bridget whimpered afraid to speak the words out loud. The whole time Franky’s fingertips still traced the delicate pattern. Down her stretched arms, over her sides and legs, then up her inner thigh stopping just before her sex. Bridget struggled to keep her eyes open on Franky’s face. Then as if Franky could read her mind, the familiar sting was back, only this time it ran the entire pattern, arms, legs, and thighs. Bridget gasped at the contact feeling her skin burn brightly. This time it didn’t stop at one cycle. Franky traced her nails over the irritated flesh three times digging a little deeper each time. Bridget’s body shook unexplainably. The touch was gone as quickly as it came, and she felt Franky move from the bed. Her skin felt like it had been set alight and it was a match burning slowly. Somehow the feeling caused her sex to pulsate with desire. She could feel her wetness unlike she ever had. Her eyes struggled to stay focused on what her lover was doing, her vision clouded. She whimpered softly unable to form words as she clung to the ties in her arms. Franky returned into her line of vision, she had placed the strap on over her hips and climbed over Bridget onto the bed. Instantly she pulled the blonde into her lap angling her hips just so. Before Bridget could prepare herself, she felt Franky slide the entire length into her wetness. She sucked in air at the feeling of fullness mixed with the sting in her sides. Franky’s powerful hands gripped her hips as she began to expertly work the strap on inside her lover, her hips rolling with each slow thrust. Bridget threw her head back moaning loudly. The thrusts were hard yet maddeningly slow as she bottomed out each time inside of her girlfriend’s aching center. A haze fell over Bridget as her nerve endings were set alight. Her eyes fluttered closed as she fell into the sweetness of it all.  
  
“Stay with me,” Franky begged her hand brushing over Bridget’s cheek. She quickly opened her eyes; heavy lids remained on Franky’s piercing dark eyes. “Good girl,” She cooed with that smile on her face. “Don’t let go until I say so, alright?” Bridget nodded keeping her eyes on her. Instantly she felt the rhythm pick up as Franky’s hips expertly sunk into her deeper and faster. Bridget began pulsing around her, sensing her impending orgasm. She gripped the restraints hard, her vision tunneling. The sharpness at her sides was back for one final swipe down each side. “Let go.” She gave her permission, the thrusts of her hips unwavering as the woman below her exploded from the inside out. White heat expanded from her center as it shook over her entire form. Her vision went black. Bridget heard moans in the distance unsure of where they were coming from. They sounded uninhibited and raw.  
  
She stirred later feeling a coolness brush over her sides her eyes opening slightly. Franky was brushing a cool washcloth over her tender skin before brushing over it again with some type of salve. Instantly the skin was cooled and the sting had been taken away completely. It was then Bridget noticed her hands were out of the restraints. She reached desperately for Franky.   
  
“Shh, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” Franky laid back and pulled her against her chest. Franky then brought Bridget’s shaking fingertips up to her lips, before she began kissing them over and over. Bridget sunk into the touch seeking out the sound of Franky’s heartbeat. “I love you.” She leaned down to brush her lips softly against Bridget’s. Still recovering, Bridget’s brain searched for the words only to come up empty handed. Franky grinned. “I know. Rest.” Her hands traced delicately over Bridget’s bare back lulling the woman to a restful sleep. 


	3. Chapter 3

It was Franky who awoke first the next day, Bridget still draped across her body like a blanket. She felt as if she had slept one hundred years in one night. She looked down at the sleeping woman in awe. She was even gorgeous as she slept, her pouty lips parted ever so slightly. Her blonde hair was wild framing her face, the natural curl apparent after a restful night’s sleep. She could feel the rise and fall of the woman’s rhythmic breathing, her arm across Franky, and palm against her chest. Her eyes glanced downward inspecting the marks from last night. Five pink stripes painted her long side like a paintbrush. She had been careful enough to make sure she wouldn’t cut the skin. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined the older woman performing so well. It was as if she had been born to submit, which was so unlike the psychologists normally controlled demeanor. The visions of Bridget’s back arching off the bed as Franky’s nails tore down her body would be ingrained in her brain forever. Even if the woman never wanted to do it again, Franky was sure the events of last night would tide her over for a lifetime. The flushed redness of her cheeks had matched the hue of her moaning parted lips perfectly. Bridget was absolutely stunning with her hands pulling against the silk restraints. It was hard to believe the same wanton woman from last night was wrapped in her arms breathing deeply in sleep. She reached her hand down to brush a line across the raised flesh of the blonde’s sides feeling her work like braille. Bridget inhaled deeply stirring against her chest.   
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Franky whispered as her lips pressed to her forehead. Bridget’s eyes fluttered open taking in her surroundings. Franky loved the way she watched her come back to the world after a good night’s sleep. “Good morning.” She brushed her blonde hair back behind her ear. “How’d you sleep?” She leaned in to press a soft kiss to the woman’s forehead.  
“I love you.” Bridget was finally able to speak and completely ignored the question that had been posed to her.   
“I love you too. Why don’t we take a shower and then I can make some breakfast?” Bridget nodded slowly still waking up. She let Franky lead her toward the bathroom as she started the water for the shower. Bridget’s eyes went to the mirror to see the strips of angry pink flesh. Somehow they were not nearly as deep as she had thought they were last night. They felt as if her skin was being sliced open, yet here and now they appeared to be no more than scratches. She brushed her fingertips over her side only to be greeted with the familiar sting. Bridget couldn’t help but like the way the pink stripes contrasted against her pale skin. Quickly Bridget realized she had been caught when her eyes met green through the reflection in the mirror. Franky’s arms wrapped protectively around her waist as their bare skin met in a warm embrace. “You’re so beautiful,” She whispered against her ear, not taking her eyes away. “Thank you.”  
Bridget turned around kissing her deeply before pulling her into the shower and under the stream. She pressed Franky against the tile before sinking to her knees and bringing one of her legs over her shoulder. Franky’s head pressed back her eyes fluttering closed. “Gidge,” She breathed as the blonde ran her tongue over her slit. She brushed a hand up Franky’s taught stomach towards the plump flesh of her breast cupping it firmly. If there was one thing that Bridget had that any of Franky’s previous encounters didn’t it was experience. The woman knew exactly what she was doing. She had been an expert at reading Franky’s body from the beginning. She brushed the pad of her thumb in circles over the woman’s nipple causing it to harden almost instantly. “Fuck.” She groaned at the touch, her hands in Bridget’s hair as the woman flicked and sucked around Franky’s heat. Franky was shivering even with the warm steam surrounding her in the shower. The images of Bridget screaming through the throws of her orgasms flooded her brain. Without warning, Bridget slid two fingers into Franky’s drenched sex causing her legs to shake. Bridget’s hand slid back down from Franky’s heaving chest and she held her firmly against the wall to support her. Her slender fingers began pumping forcefully into her young lover causing her head to spin. Franky could feel the slight but noticeable hook at the tips of Bridget’s fingers as if she was beckoning her orgasm out of her body. The brunette attempted to fill her air with lungs through her desperate pants. Seconds later she felt the blonde’s pouty lips kissing softly over her swollen clit. The sensation caused her hips to buck forward as she tried to force more of her slick heat into the woman’s eager mouth. She instantly obeyed and wrapped her lips around allowing her tongue to languidly lap at the delicious pearl. It didn’t take long before she was gripping the door in ecstasy and she climaxed onto Bridget’s waiting mouth as her walls pulsed around the slick digits deep inside. Her breathing came in pants as she attempted to hold herself up with her rippling biceps on the glass panel of the shower door. Bridget somehow miraculously kept her upright with her shoulder baring the weight of Franky’s leg still wrapped around her. She held her through the aftershocks before pulling the woman to sit straddled in Bridget’s lap. She kissed her mouth roughly licking any trace of her sex hungrily. She then wrapped her arms and legs protectively around the smaller woman holding her with her as the stream of warm water hit their bodies. “I don’t deserve you.” She muttered again.  
“No, Franky, I don’t deserve you,” She corrected. The two carefully washed tenderly taking their time as they brushed thick lathers of soap over every inch of each other. When they had finished, Franky carefully placed the salve over Bridget’s sides yet again admiring her handy work up close in the light.


End file.
